


Torn Asunder

by WeaverOfWorlds



Category: Hermitcraft, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: Evil Twins
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-07-23
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:06:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25465978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WeaverOfWorlds/pseuds/WeaverOfWorlds
Summary: So about that Hellsknight huh? (written before he was officially A Thing)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 24





	Torn Asunder

He couldn’t log out…

Why couldn’t he log out?

Xisuma had just sent a message over the communicators to all leave the server while he reset it for the nether update, and Wels was the only person currently online. 

The comms pinged again, 

_< Xisuma> Yo Wels, you get the message man?_

_< Welsknight> Yea I got it, but I can’t log out for some reason. Can’t even find my portal back to the overworld._

_< Xisuma> Shit man, any idea what’s going on?_

_< Welsknight> Not a clue_

_< Welsknight> We in any rush to reset?_

_< Xisuma> Not really, if you don’t wanna risk it then we can wait until this bug fixes itself_

Wels looked around, eyes scanning the desolate, red landscape. Should they wait? He knew all the hermits had been hyping up the nether reset, that both audience and hermit alike were endlessly excited. He turned his gaze back to his communicator;

_< Welsknight> I’m sure it’ll be fine, what’s the worst that can happen?_

_< Xisuma> Alright man, brace yourself okay? This might hurt…_

Wels took a deep breath, his muscles tensing under his armour. 

_< Welsknight> I’m ready_

Suddenly, the world jolted. Wels watched as the netherrack began to dissolve in the distance, a wave of destruction moving towards him as the nether fell apart. His heart raced as the edge of the world drew nearer and nearer, the loud, agonized squeals of zombie pigmen as their very existence was being erased.

What’s the worst that could happen?

It got closer.

Closer.

Closer.

Instinctively, Wels drew his sword, fight or flight instincts kicking in, but what was he supposed to do against the void?

He felt the netherrack beneath his feet start to crumble, to fall away, and he stared in horror as his body did the same.

He could feel his body ripping apart, every molecule of his essence being torn asunder as his whole being was slowly, painfully, erased. He couldn’t run, couldn’t fight, couldn’t do anything as his body felt like it was burning, ripping, dissolving away in the choking sulphurous air.

He screamed, an unbidden scream of pain and terror, his soul rapidly being forced to face nonexistence. 

What’s the worst that could happen?

As the last shreds of his consciousness began to fade, as the last of his heart and mind was torn apart, Wels cried out for help, for anyone, any god who would listen, to spare him, to end his pain and to ensure Xisuma would never find out how much he had suffered in this act.

_< Welsknight fell out of the world>_

Wels felt sand beneath his face, and a stiffness in his limbs that indicated he was curled up somewhere. He opened his eyes and found himself looking out to sea, at the distant shape of the Cowmercial District.

He was in a lot of pain; he could still feel the tearing of his body being reset with the nether, the toxic fumes in his lungs. With an involuntary shout of pain, he unraveled his curled form and shakily stood. He was on spawn island, and the portal was still there.

He needed to rest.

His inventory was empty, of course, so he grabbed one of the boats that Joe had left and made his way to the shopping district, taking some diamonds from his enderchest and buying a new elytra and rockets so he could make it back to his base.

Wels felt his communicator ping; thank goodness he hadn’t lost that too, he thought, who knew how he’d get a new one.

It pinged a few more times on his way back to his base, causing him to expedite his pace, and by the time he landed in front of his home he had multiple unread messages.

_< Xisuma joined the game>_

_< Xisuma> Hey Wels, you okay?_

_< Xisuma> You still alive bud?_

_< Xisuma> Wels? _

Drained, Wels typed out a simple message before collapsing onto his bed;

_< Welsknight> Feel like garbage gotta nap talk later_

He went to put the communicator down, consciousness fading fast as the fatigue took him, but just as his eyes closed, a final message from Xisuma came through;

_< Xisuma> Cool new name for your cam account btw, kinda edgy but pretty cool_

With that, the weariness left him in an instant. 

_< Welsknight> New name?_

_< Welsknight> Cam is still welscam, just like always_

He sat up and left the bed, immediately going down to his armoury to craft new diamond armour and weapons. 

Another ping.

_< Xisuma> If that’s not you then who’s Hellsknight?_

_< Xisuma> And how did they get on the whitelist?_

Wels’ stomach dropped. 

_< Welsknight> I have a suspicion… but I need to check the nether out_

_< Welsknight> Like right now._

—

As he stepped through the portal in the shopping district, Wels felt the familiar burn of the nether air in his lungs. He glanced down at his comms and opened his stats app; he’d made a mental note of where he’d been when the nether reset just on the off chance he’d find something interesting there later, but something was telling him that he’d find something very important there right now.

His sword held firmly in his grasp, Wels struck out across the newly shaped infernal plane, his mind singularly focused on finding out what was going on with this new player.

“͞C̯̘̥͍̤̦̟o̖͇͕̫͟m͙̘̤͔̯̹e̩̹͙̲͓͕͡ ̨̹t̝̠o͇̙͉̭ ̝̞͉̟ͅm͙e̴̹̺̪̹,͍ ͎͎k͜n̠͍̩̳͉i͢g̨̙̥̟h̰̼̳̖̘͠t̛̮.̶͇̹̠̯̙ͅ"̢̪̥̬͍͙ͅ

Wels stopped suddenly, a chill running through him despite the sweltering heat. 

He checked his communicator; only a few hundred blocks to go. He had to be hallucinating, he thought. He was stressed after all, had just undergone trauma, of course he was a little bit loopy.

He kept walking, sword now held even tighter in his grasp, fear beginning to return. 

As he neared his destination, he could see a vast looming shape emerging from the fog; a grand fortress of blackstone and basalt, crawling with piglins. 

Piglins that, Wels suddenly remembered, attacked you if you weren’t wearing gold armour. 

"̳̟̰͙̖͡L͟eͅa̙̟̰͇͝v͙̺e̦̙̘̗̖̞͖ hi҉͖m̧͚̙.̱̯̼͚͉͇ͅ"̤̪̲

That whisper returned to his mind, and Wels was shocked to see the piglins paying him no mind, barely acknowledging his presence beyond a glance.

Wels made haste into the fortress, making the most of the strange docile nature of the porcine mobs, and passed through the grand main gate. 

Before him, he could see a structure that was inexplicably furnished. With black and red carpets marking the center point of the main hall, torches of twisted wood burning in netherite sconces lining the walls. 

Wels felt something hitch in his chest, something attached to his core that he couldn’t help but follow, his footfalls echoing in the vast halls as he moved on, chest tightening from his anxiety. 

The infernal castle was decorated in a very gothic manner, primarily reds and blacks, with the occasional dark purples thrown in; from a built pallet perspective it was very solid, it just wasn’t Wels’ style, and quite frankly he had a hard time believing that this was supposed to be like this.

Eventually, with his breathing laboured and his tunic beneath his armour soaked with sweat, Wels reached a huge door made from that red wood that now grew here. His heart thundered in his chest, fear at a peak as he reached out and pushed open the door.

What he found was a grand throne room; a guard of fully armoured piglins with enchanted crossbows flanking the deep red carpet that led from door to throne, evenly spaced corinthian columns stretching from the floor up into the darkness of the vaulted ceiling, and, lounging on the throne before him, a single player model. 

Wels reflexively raised his sword, and brought his axe up in his offhand for added defense as he cautiously moved forward, keen eyes scanning this other person and logging every detail.

The other player stood from the throne, drawing a blade from its sheath at their back and casually moving forward, stepping into a patch of light from an unseen source. 

They appeared male, they were tall, and their face was identical to his. They, he, whoever this player was, was fully decked in netherite armour; spiked pauldrons and armguards, horned helmet with a fiery plume, surface of the armour seemingly cracked and flowing from within with the glow of lava. What little Wels could see of his double’s hair was a deep black, appearing to be singed and glowing red at the edges, and their eyes were burning with crimson flame. 

Wels’ voice cracked, “What.. are you?”

His double chuckled darkly, "Who do you think?” The fuller in the double’s sword burned as though it were filled with lava as they playfully spun it in their grasp. “We both know how smart you are, Wels, you know full well who I am.”

“Hellsknight?” The word caught in his throat, as if it didn’t want to be said.

They smirked and bowed, “The one and only. Thank you for the wonderful gear, by the way. I do appreciate the welcome gift.” 

Wels growled, “I didn’t ask who you are, I asked what you are.”

“I am you, your other half, your… evil twin for lack of a better phrase. But make no mistake, I’m far more powerful than you. I am born of the fires of the nether, lava flows through my veins, I am more than a knight, I am a lord of this realm.” His eyes glowed brightly, “now kneel.”

The next instant seemed to stretch on for an eternity as Wels weighed all the options in his mind: he couldn’t run, because it seemed that this Hellsknight had control of the piglins and as easily as he had prevented them from swarming him, he could easily set them loose. He couldn’t fight, because none of his stuff was enchanted yet. He definitely wasn’t going to kneel, because he had dignity for goodness sake. That left only one option to him…

<Welsknight left the game>


End file.
